Old Times
by LotlLove
Summary: A rooftop meeting leads to renewed acquaintance for some old colleagues.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I've been re-watching some old episodes, and I think these two need a little love and attention. My time is limited, so I apologise for any errors!

Ric jabbed at the lift button angrily, but the doors continued to belligerently close at their own pace. He felt his irritation levels first peak, then subside slightly as he took a deep breath. One more word out of the mouth of that irritating little F1 and he would blow. His dislike of her had reached a pinnacle, such that every little habit she had, twisting that lock of hair round her finger, her little sighs, even the tone of her voice, was driving him crazy.

The lift stopped with a ping and he strode out into the dimly lit corridor, jogging up the last short flight of steps to the roof access door, anticipating the cool air that awaited.

A thought flickered through his head that he might not be the only person up there, but he didn't care. If there was someone else looking for solitude he would surely be able to send them running fairly quickly in his current state of mind.

As the refreshing breeze broke over his skin, he saw with relief that the space was empty.

He paused for a moment to enjoy the new sensation and closed his eyes.

It had been a long day. Every day was long at the moment, and not just in his imagination. With no one to go home to he had been allowing his shifts to drag on, sometimes rolling right over into the next. No one had noticed, or if they had they hadn't said anything. Hanssen would be pleased to get so much value for money out of his consultants, he thought bitterly.

He walked slowly to the familiar metal rail at the edge of the building and looked out across the city. A pang of regret that he hadn't called Jess for a while threatened to induce some guilty feelings, but he suppressed them. She didn't need him anymore, not really. He half smiled when he remembered the last conversation they had had. Jess had broached the subject with her usual lack of subtlety. "You need a woman, dad, come on, gone a few dates or something."

As if Mr Eric Griffin needed yet another woman to mess up his life. He couldn't bear the idea of it, meeting someone new, the chase, the excitement, the eventual heartbreak when they ran off with someone else or turned out to BE someone else… No, he did not need a woman. He just needed to keep his head down, keep working, and get on with his life.

A movement in his peripheral vision caused him to turn his head suddenly towards to the opposite wing of the hospital. There was a figure standing right on the other end of the roof, her long hair blowing a little in the wind. Probably just a nurse on her break. He turned back to his own view of the world, but something made him look again. Just his luck if she was an escaped psych patient about to launch herself off the edge. He sighed and headed towards her, navigating the pipes and ladders that lay between them.

As he drew closer he noticed a few things that he hadn't previously registered. Her long legs in those skin-tight trousers, her narrow but perfectly contoured hips. And finally, her shoes. Her very high, very expensive looking heeled shoes.

He stopped suddenly, but it was too late, she turned, having heard his approaching footsteps. She looked at him, and for a moment there was such emptiness in her eyes that he wondered if she even recognised him, ridiculous as that may be.

"Mrs Beauchamp." He muttered, making the final steps towards her, expecting a response, but she turned away from him.

"Connie?" He asked, louder, a little confused.

She sighed and turned to face him, and he could see that she had wiped away the tears that were falling, but hadn't done a very good job. A little smudged eyeliner was giving her away. He fought the urge to reach out and touch her, to comfort her, but that was not wise with Connie Beauchamp. The best way to tackle this situation, as he had learnt from experience many years ago, was to let her get whatever anger she had out of her system, maybe ask a couple of gentle, pertinent questions, and then let her breeze off on the understanding that their conversation had never happened.

"I hear you work in the ED now." He said cautiously, trying to find some safe ground.

"Come on Ric, you know I work in the ED, I have done for 2 years now. We've been in meetings together."

He pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"We haven't spoken in that time though. I did invite you for a drink when you came back. You didn't reply to my email."

"I assumed it was a group thing." She said flippantly, though they both knew it wasn't true. She turned away from him again and Ric knew that he needed to make a choice between getting involved in whatever she was upset about or walking safely away.

"Ok, Connie, I can see you're upset. So what is it? What's wrong?" He said finally, taking the plunge. He regretted his confrontational approach almost immediately, cursing his earlier irritability.

She turned back to him slowly, her eyes shining but her face taught with anger.

"I don't need your pity, Ric. Save it for yourself." She snapped, walking sharply away.

The words cut him like a knife, but Ric tried to shake them off. He knew her well enough not to be offended. Connie Beauchamp's iron-clad defensive walls were up, and she was retaliating. He considered his next move. He would wait for her to go back to her office; there was no point rushing after her when she was like this. He could probably get most of the answers from the hospital grapevine; that would give him some advantage in dealing with her.

Ric checked himself mentally. Why did he care how the Ice Queen felt? It didn't matter to him anymore. She certainly didn't give a damn about him. A little voice inside his head disagreed. It did matter, somehow. Since Connie had come back to Holby, she wasn't the same person. After everything that had happened to her over the years, the ups and downs, Michael nearly destroying her, nearly losing Grace, every adversity had seemed to make her stronger, but that wasn't the case now. It didn't sit right with him. It wasn't natural.

If he was honest, he might also acknowledge that this was a pretty good distraction from the mundane routine of his own tired life. He headed inside to call in a few favours.


	2. Chapter 2

The ED was relatively quiet, and her shift had finished an hour ago, but Connie was lingering over some paperwork. Her eyes kept skipping a line and she realised it was futile. She leant back in the office chair and twirled the ballpoint pen between her fingers.

Her mind wandered back a few years and again she began to torture herself with memories. She had been at the top of her game in cardiothoracics; the excitement, the cutting edge technology, putting new hearts in desperate bodies. The money, the politics, the dinners and the champagne, she had relished every minute of it. There had been pitfalls of course, and problems along the way, but there had always been someone to go home with, people around her who respected her and what she was capable of.

Something had changed. She didn't think it was Grace, although becoming a mother had certainly changed her. It had made her less patient with the outside world and more patient with those she loved. But something of herself had been lost along the way.

She wondered where Michael was now. Did he have children too? He'd probably fathered a couple, even if he didn't know about it, but she doubted he'd be lonely. Sam certainly wasn't. Two children, a queue of attractive young women lining up to keep his bed warm, and a higher salary than he'd even known. Sam was doing just fine.

She sighed. Jacob had been a mistake. She had allowed his infatuation with her to suck her in to something childish. All that flirting and silliness, she had let go of her control and her emotions, and it hadn't ended well. He just didn't understand her. The sex had been incredible, of course, but it wasn't right for either of them. He'd proved that by moving on so quickly.

Now here she was again, alone, with nothing to go back to but an empty house.

She placed the pen on top of a stack of notes and picked up her coat and bag. As she walked past the stairs on the way to the exit, she paused, suddenly feeling the urge to see her old office, to re-live some good memories just one more time.

The wards were quiet as evening fell, and the sky had darkened outside, lit only by the orange glow of the carpark lights. She walked carefully and quietly towards Darwin, afraid that her heels would give her away if Naylor or Valentine were about. As she reached the door to her old office, she could see that the lights were off and it was empty. She punched in the only code she remembered, and unsurprisingly the lock released.

She felt a hint of adrenalin, knowing that she shouldn't be here, but she needed it. She slipped inside and walked slowly to Jac's desk. There was almost nothing left of the décor that she had insisted on. The walls had been repainted, and Elliot's beloved cabinet of artefacts was long gone. Her desk and chair were the same though, and as sat down and closed her eyes she could almost imagine she had gone back 10 years.

"Connie?"

The familiarity of the voice startled her, and for a second she was back there, being interrupted from writing up patient notes by a needy colleague.

Her eyes shot open and she tried to suppress her clearly startled expression.

"I was just… looking for Jac."

Ric smiled at her, but there was concern in his eyes. "I don't think she works this late." He said diplomatically.

"No. Of course."

She stood abruptly and walked towards him, suddenly embarrassed and wanting to escape, but he held up a hand and lightly touched her shoulder.

"How about we go to my office and have that drink." He said quietly.

She examined his expression suspiciously, but he wasn't giving anything away. She could do with a whisky. She nodded silently and moved past him as he held open the door.


	3. Chapter 3

"I can't believe you're still here, Ric." Connie said, smiling now as he poured her another glass of single malt. She held up the glass thoughtfully. "But I'm glad your taste in whisky has improved, you must have paid off your debts."

Ric chuckled. "Finally. And really, it's no surprise to anyone that I'm still at Holby. I keep coming back. I don't even know why, everyone else has moved on."

"Not Jac. Or Hanssen." Connie observed with a note of bitterness.

"I meant the old crowd. Although, some of them are never coming back."

They both knew he was talking about Diane, and Connie looked down at her glass.

"I came back, didn't I?" She said quietly.

"Not to where you belong." He replied quickly.

Connie knocked back another mouthful of the amber liquid.

"Do you remember…" She started.

Ric's lip twitched. "Of course I do."

"A lot has happened since that night. So many years, so many people." She said pensively.

"Do you wish you could go back, do things differently?"

Connie considered his question as the alcohol warmed her, she felt it loosening her tongue.

"Mostly, no. Even the politics, the battles, I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. But some things, maybe. Missed opportunities perhaps."

"It was never like you to miss opportunities." Ric replied, referring to her enormous ambition.

"What if we could go back, just for a little while?" Connie asked, turning to face him on the sofa, unsure whether the idea that was forming in her head was reckless stupidity or something that would help to heal her.

"I don't quite catch your meaning." Ric said, pouring himself another drink and avoiding her eye.

"Oh yes you do. You know exactly what I mean."


	4. Chapter 4

They had danced around the idea for a little while, and Ric was aware of her increasing closeness, the smell of her perfume as she leant across him to fill her glass. She was tempting him, deliberately, baiting him with her eyes, the casual touches of his knee, the view she was giving him of her gorgeous legs in that skirt. Would he? He had always found her extremely difficult to resist. There was that seductive tone to her voice, something he hadn't heard from her in a long time. He was surprised she hadn't been more overt in her advances, but maybe this was a sign of the new Connie Beauchamp. A little insecure perhaps these days, trying to goad him into taking the lead. Well if that was what she wanted, he was happy to oblige.

"Stand up Mrs Beauchamp." He said eventually, placing his glass on the coffee table.

She paused for a second, clearly startled by his suddenly authoritative tone, but she did as she was told, and allowed him to turn her to face the window. Their reflections were clear in the glass, highlighted by the darkness outside. She was more beautiful than ever now that her features had softened, and with her long hair framing her face. He tucked a tress behind her ear to give him access to her bare neck, and began to whisper against her pale skin.

"On your first day here…. You were having a little trouble with some buttons, I seem to remember."

Connie shivered as his lips grazed her sensitive skin and she swayed slightly against him. She felt the warmth of the alcohol and the anticipation of pleasure wash over her.

Pulling her close, he popped open the buttons of her blouse and slipped his hand inside, his thumb brushing lightly against her warm, flat stomach.

"Ric..." She murmured.

"Shhh. Not now Mrs Beauchamp."

…

Jasmine Burrows stood open-mouthed in the doorway of her boss's office, staring at the sight before her. Mr Griffin was lying fast asleep on the sofa under a blue hospital blanket, with a woman she didn't recognise tucked against him so close that it looked like they had melted into each other.

She panicked and closed the door as fast as possible, praying that the click of the lock hadn't woken them. Turning back to the ward, she went in search of someone to tell before it burst out of her.

…

Connie woke with a start, which she regretted when her head exploded with the penetrating pain of her hangover.

"Oh god." She mumbled involuntarily when she caught sight of the clock through bleary eyes. Ric moved next to her and tightened his grip around her waist as she began to slide dangerously off the edge of the cushions.

"I've got to go. My shift starts in 20 minutes." She said, releasing herself from his grip, taking the warm blanket with her, much to his chagrin.

"Can you give that back when you've got dressed? I think I'm just going to stay exactly where I am until I die." Ric stated humourlessly, clearly suffering along with her.

She slipped quickly back into her clothes, noticing that her muscles ached. Ideally she would benefit from another night's sleep in a proper bed after that, but she didn't have the luxury. She ignored Ric's request and folded the blanket neatly.

"You need to get up before one of the cleaners comes in and files a complaint for gross indecency."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly at the suggestion that his naked body could be the cause of any complaint and she grinned, blushing slightly as she remembered the things he had done to her the night before.

"Goodbye Ric." She said as she reached for the door handle.

"Wait, Connie, can we… Can I see you again?" He asked, half expecting her to mock him, but still wanting to say it.

She paused, her expression not giving anything away. "Maybe." She replied finally, before turning to leave.

Ric watched her go, hardly daring to hope that this might be something. After everything he'd told himself about not wanting a woman in his life... This was different, it was Connie. He would always want Connie.


End file.
